It's a Dangerous Game
by SpookyVelociraptor
Summary: A small personal fanfiction for my tumblr blog melancholicquill. Rated M for future questionable t h i N GS and darker themes (because vampires bruh)
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

 _Death_.

An old friend, a pleasant and peaceful dream. The dark quiet of twilight, the whisper of mist on the moor. This, this is what she dreamed. What she spent her waking hours waiting for, for the moment she could hide away in the dark quiet of her bedroom to wipe her tears and lay her head down to rest. Always she'd close her eyes to slip away into that mist, met by the familiar sight of the nightmare within the dream. At first, she had been terrified of it, stared frozen in place as the creature came nearer. But now she let it come as close as it wished, its velvet nose stirring vibrant auburn locks with its cool breath.

It was a stag, much larger than any she had seen before, its antlers twisted into elegant arching shapes. It didn't seem quite real, stars glittering on its midnight black fur and smoke wisping off of it's antlers and hooves. It's eyes were unnaturally pale, but so much like hers. One... Of the unclouded sky... And another of the dark grass that grew in the moor. A mirror image of her own glittering gaze. Was the beast something within her that manifested in her dreams? Her father had often said that real life could manifest in one's unconscious mind in strange and sometimes terrifying fashions, but she did not think that was the case. This beast that haunted her dreams... She saw him as an old friend. A protector.

She frowned as she woke, fretting over how her descriptions of the strange beast displeased her parents. They found her accounts to be disturbing nightmares... Not the safe haven she loved so dearly. "Sarah dear, what have I told you about letting your mind wander before bed?" Her mother would scold, a harsh bite hidden behind a sweet smile. "Keep the lavender oil by your bed and perhaps your nightmares will actually go away once you learn to listen to your elders."

She didn't like that either. The lavender clouded her dreams, made the stag all but impossible to find. Instead, she learned to keep quiet to her parents. Her younger brother on the other hand... She was only sixteen, but to her eleven year old brother, she was wise beyond her years. Jonathan would sit and listen with wide eyes and a soft smile as she told him of the grand beast, a twinkle growing in his eyes.

"He sounds like a good ally to have in a fight." Jonathan swung out his wooden sword at the open window, the soft white curtains billowing out to them. "I bet I could beat Samuel at Kings and Knights if I went riding into battle on your smokey steed." He gave his sword a few more swings with a bright smile on his face. Sarah laughed, carefully standing up to brush out her skirts as she went to close the window. Her mother had started to force her into more "mature dresses" that were heavy and hot, but Jonathan would catch a cold if she let the autumn chill seep into his bones for too long.

"I'm sure he would protect you valiantly." She laughed softly, closing the window's latch with a quiet click. "Now come on. I don't want you to get yelled at by Mother for trying to hide from your bedtime." She lead him with a hand between his shoulders, a soft smile on her face. "And remember, don't utter a word to Mother or Father about our shadowy friend, okay? It's our secret."

"Our secret." He grinned back like always. She kissed his forehead and sent him out of her bedroom door, swinging his wooden sword happily. She closed the door behind him, resting her back against it. She stayed there for a moment, relishing the quiet of the room. The room was filled with a bloody red and golden light, the sunset casting rosy hues on her freckled face. She loved nightfall, when she could strip down to her more childish nightgowns and hug her dolls close to her chest without fear of her mother scolding her for "refusing to grow up". She loved the sunrise just as well, but it always put a certain dread in her heart. So soft, and so delicate compared to the violent reds of sunset, but with it came day... When she had to shed her comforts and try to fit into her mother's standards of what a daughter should be.

She bit her bottom lip to hold back the tears, slowly undressing and relishing the way the cool air felt against her skin after being trapped in the thick petticoats of the hoop skirted dressed her mother so loved to dress her in. She breathed a sigh of relief as the corset came undone, slipping into a delicate lacy white nightgown. Her toes barely peeked out from under the hem and her hands were barely visible from the just a little too long sleeves. It felt like mist clinging to her skin, spider silk made into lace. Auburn curls were pulled out of their tight up-do, cascading down between her shoulder blades, filling her senses with the smell of rose oil.

Twilight had begun to creep up on her, the first stars peeking out. The adults would be up for some time still, but the children were expected to be put away early for their convenience and to rise early to promote a healthy sleeping schedule. Her mother no doubt would be in to check on her soon, but Sarah allowed herself a few moments to gaze at the stars. She opened her window again, feeling the chill in the air, the promises of winter on the wind. Her family was middle class and couldn't afford some of the more elaborate townhouses, but the cry of seagulls and the smell of the sea was there, the Connecticut coast just a few blocks away. If she peered hard enough past the roofs of the houses and shops, she could see the ocean peeking through the chimney smoke. Her mother hated the ocean.

Gazing wistfully at the water, wishing she could fly away as easily as the seagulls could, she did not notice the dark shape watching her from the rooftops. He seemed to blend in, his pale mismatched eyes shining like two small lights from a cloud of black smoke. In an instant though, he was gone and by the time she looked in his direction, it was like he had never been there at all. She couldn't sense the feeling that someone had their eyes on her... Nor could she put her finger on the sense of familiarity that came from it. Frowning, she rubbed her eyes. Perhaps it was time for bed after all.

Slipping between the sheets she hugged her Lotte, her favorite porcelain doll, to her chest. White blonde ringlets tickled her cheek, gentle blue eyes reflecting the dim light until it fully gave way to night. Her mother came to check on her, but she was already fast asleep, dark lashes fluttering against freckled cheeks. Holly gave a soft smile, pleased to see her daughter following the rules. It was replaced with a frown as she noticed that the bottle of lavender oil had not been touched, and she shook her head, making a mental note to scold the girl in the morning.

The moment the door closed, the room being closed in darkness once more, the room was not empty. In the corner sat the dark shape from before, his pale eyes fixated on her. He waited until the house fell silent, till the heartbeats of the other occupants slowed into the soft rhythmic beating of sleep, matching the girl's. But they were not the same, oh no, her heartbeat sounded so much sweeter. He stood, his coat barely missing the floor by a mere few inches, his pale body clothed in nothing but black.

He approached the bed, sitting down by the girl's side carefully as not to stir her. He frowned at the bottle of lavender oil on the nightstand, slipping it quietly into the drawer and out of sight. Turning back to her, he slipped off his gloves. Pale ivory hands as white as the snow that would soon be plaguing the city reached out, rings glittering on the graceful fingers. He brushed the hair away from her face, his touch cool. Her eyebrows furrowed some, and he feared for a moment that she would wake. But she calmed, the look on her face being replaced by one of serenity. "My friend..." She mumbled, nestling into the porcelain doll that she cradled in her arms. "You've come back to me..."

" _Yes_..." He whispered back, stroking her hair. "I'll _always_ come back to you, don't you fret." His smile was sincere, but his heart ached. Oh how he wished he could dive into her dreams, to see what she did. To reach out to her in some way without fear of rejection. But how could he? He was a **monster**... _Wasn't he?_ He bent down, pressing a chilled kiss to her temple. "If only you could awaken to a lovely dream... And not this nightmare." He sat like this with her nearly every night. Before, she did not stir until dawn was near, and he would be gone at the first flutter of her lashes. Hide himself away back into the dark, back with the dead. Sometimes his companions would join him, and he'd be able to come out during the day, his sensitive skin hidden away from the garish sunlight.

But yet... **_That was not enough_**. His pale eyes became misted with a crimson film, the blood red tears threatening to spill. _No_... He could not leave a single trace of his presence. She could not know that he existed... Even though he purely existed for her now. No other had captured his heart like this.. Not even the lovely Maria from his mortal youth. She had revived what he had long since thought dead, filled his lungs with stardust and his veins with lightning. He knew now, what it felt to love a star, to be consumed by its warmth.

But it would seem that he would also know how it felt to be burned by the flames of its passion. He loved her so dearly, couldn't bear to see her be given away to some flighty suitor by her mother, forced into womanhood when he could keep her so perfectly preserved. His own little porcelain doll, and his _alone_. He had made grand plans of stealing her away before, even going so far as to think of stealing away her young and vibrant brother as well, who his heart had grown to love as any man would love a son.

But they would have to grow up without him... And perhaps... Whatever dreams his unearthly presence had given her would satisfy her yearning for something more... Keep her true to herself while her mother tried to mold her. He could only hope. He looked out to the starry sky, knowing dawn would be coming soon, and her waking with it. He wished he could stay for just a bit longer, just a bit longer this time, prolong their last meeting as long as he could. He swallowed hard, knowing it could not be. Come sunrise, William would be expecting him and Shannon in their coffins, but whereas the young Shannon no doubt already was sleeping peacefully in his, Lewis unwillingly pulled himself away from the girl.

Virginia was waiting, he was going home. He had plans to work out, and he couldn't let this opportunity slip through his fingers. But it would mean the end of his dream, the end of his rebirth. Once more he knew the pain of death, the pain of moving on. Perhaps... One day... He'd be able to steal his little doll away. Or perhaps... It would be better for her if he never returned at all.

 _One day..._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

 _Three years later_

Sarah watched her father pack the trunks into the carriage, one heart clutching her chest as if it could stop her heart from shattering into a thousand pieces at any moment. Normally, she and her brother would be down, petting and cooing at the beasts, but there was no joy in those mismatched eyes this morning. Her brother of fourteen now kneeled beside her on the window seat, his hand in hers. Their fingers were so tightly interwoven that their knuckles had gone white, but neither one of them move, neither one of them spoke. It was hard to believe that either of them breathed either. Sarah tried her very best to keep the tears in for once. No matter how many people had come into her life and left, the tears had always been there, the only constant she could draw comfort from. Now, she didn't want that small comfort. She didn't want things to change. She didn't want to be left behind. _**Abandoned**_.

The night their parents had sat them down to announce that the divorce was finally becoming a reality, Sarah felt like her mother had plunged a knife into her heart. Her father had so often seemed so sad and distant as of late, and it seemed as if her mother was simply becoming _bored_ with him. Sarah had even heard of whispers from the maid and the cook that her mother had a gentleman caller recently. It was too confusing, too painful... And what was more... Her father couldn't take them. Either or them. Perhaps they'd be able to visit once he got settled in back with their grandmother in the country, but for now... Their mother was the only source of comfort they could look to. And the very thought of that broke her silent mask, the porcelain shattering to reveal a heartbroken girl.

She let go of her brother's hands and slid down from the seat, tears plopping onto the shining wood floor of her room. Her brother slid down to sit next to her, hugging her close and shutting his eyes tight. His eyes were red as well, his body trembling from tears that had already left him from the darkness of his own room the night before. " _She promised_..." She cried into his vest. "She promised that we'd always be together... Always a _**family**_. That's what she told me. She told me she loved him too much to... to..." Her throat refused to let her speak and her brother pulled her in close, his own eyes wet again.

"I know... It'll be okay though... You still have me. I'm not leaving." He hugged her tight, shutting his eyes as they sat in the heavy quiet.

Their mother was late to dinner, spending the day with her friends in order to be consoled. Her eyes were red, but she seemed in perfectly fine spirits as she returned home. "You know... This is a new beginning for us. A new chapter. There's no need for teary eyes or regrets anymore. We're truly a family now. It's the three of us, and we're going to be absolutely fine." Those words tasted like ash in Sarah's mouth. Suddenly not hungry, she put down her fork and took a long drink of her water. The rest of dinner was spent in silence, her mother humming to herself when she dismissed them.

"I think I'll be going to bed early." She said softly, disappearing from the dining room to wash up. By the time she shut herself away in her room, the sun was finally beginning to set. The tears came freely then, her body landing on her bed to sob into her pillows. She stayed like that for a good hour, finally quieting down as twilight approached. Grabbing her doll (she had argued long with her mother about keeping it her last birthday when her father got her another doll to add to her shelves) she dragged one of her blankets with her over to the window seat. Curling up there among the pillows she opened the window to let in the cool air. Summer was dying and autumn was well on its way, the beaches becoming too cold to visit in the evenings.

With her blanket wrapped around her and her doll tightly cradled in her arms she fell asleep like that, but she had no desire to sleep. Her dark and pleasant misty dreams of the moor had been replaced with nightmares, her father's face haunting her in her unconscious mind. Her nightmares seemed to choke out the light, choke out the happiness she once felt. She felt as if she were dying, as if she were suffocating. Where had her beloved friend of the night gone? Why did the stars no longer shine in her dreams? She openly wept in her sleep, shivering though she was perfectly warm.

" _Where are you...? Where have you gone_...?" She mumbled, eyes fluttering in restless slumber.

Unbeknownst to her, he had heard her. Returning from Virginia to the Connecticut sea side out of pure nostalgia for the porcelain doll he once (and still ) loved, her memory consuming him with a homesickness he had never known. He did not expect her to be the same, but he dug around, speaking to a few of those who lived in the area. Her parents had recently divorced, her father leaving only just that morning from the latest news he had obtained. Surely... Her slumbering mind spoke of her father?

He waited until dark had fully fallen to creep up to the window, maneuvering himself over her so he was hidden in the dark room. Gently, as not to wake her, he scooped her up in his arms as one would a child. Her closeness, her scent... He wished he could hold her like this forever. He was reminded in an instant why it had been so painful to leave. She had matured some, but she was still the little doll he remembered. That same porcelain doll was still cradled tightly in her arms as he laid her down in her bed, her auburn curls laid round her head like a fiery halo.

He sat at her bedside, taking off his gloves to tuck her in and smooth down her hair. Three years was nothing compared to the long life he had began to live already, but apart from her, it had felt like an eternity. Quietly to himself, he realized that he couldn't leave her. Nothing would ever be the same without her. But how could he steal her away? He was a **monster**... Slowly, as he stroked her hair, running his ivory fingers through it, she began to still. A look of confusion came onto her face, slender brows furrowing as mumbles escaped her. Her dream had suddenly came to that familiar misty moor, but it was night for once instead of day. The stars twinkled over head, the mist curling around her.

Slowly, an familiar sight came near, the shadowy stag that she had loved so much when she was younger. A smile spread across her face, tears running down her face even as she slept. _"I thought you would never return..."_ Lewis froze as she spoke. "It's been so long..." She hugged her doll tightly. "Why did you leave? Why did you let the nightmares come back?" Lewis wasn't sure if he was breathing or not. "Mother... She... You were my only safe place. But that's no matter. _**You're here now."**_ In her dream she reached out to hold onto the beast's smokey fur, but her small hands fumbled in the dark and found his instead. The hand that was in her hair slowly began to stroke her head once more, his thoughts racing. Her touch was so warm, her fingers curling round his.

"You're cold..." She giggled sleepily, before finally falling silent. Her bodies stress seemed to melt away, as if she hadn't slept deeply like this in a very long time. Suddenly, he began to wonder to himself. Was it possible that in his absence, hunting for Wilkinson, that somehow, she had grown attached to him as well? And that... When he left... It had negatively affected her as it had him? The nightmares... The sleepless nights... He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her temple. He had never meant to cause her pain. And now... With her father out of the picture, perhaps he could weave his way into their lives. Her mother would no doubt be wanting to marry the girl off as soon as possible. Less stress for her. But... _Could he even wait that long?_

It would be so easy now... So easy to just scoop her up and carry her off into the night... Return for her brother later. His mind raced with his wild plans, and before he knew it he was unwrapping her from her blankets, laying the doll aside. He could always return. Always return. Return to her. Never again would he leave her. The window made no sound as it was pushed open, the breeze making his coat flutter, the white lace of her nightgown billowing like the curtains of her room. He tucked her head under his and ran.

The streets were dark and silent as he headed to the cemetery, mismatched eyes watching with paranoia. A single man laid slouched against a crypt, opening his eyes as he came near. Those molten gold hues widened as he saw the girl, that unnatural gaze flicking up to him. "Meriwether, what in _tarnation_ do you think yer doing?" He hissed softly. Lewis shook his head, the fear bright in his eyes.

"I couldn't leave her there William. I couldn't... Not after... I..." He didn't know anymore. All he knew what that she was still with him, still slumbering peacefully away. She seemed so much smaller and so much more fragile in the light of the moon. Clark watched the way his dear friend acted, realizing there was something much more at work here. Just what, he didn't know, but there was something that pulled Lewis to the girl. He looked to her, finally getting a chance to see the pretty little thing Lewis had always ranted about in his sleep. Her thick auburn curls framed a sweet freckled face, her nose small and slightly upturned to give her a more childish look to her. She was indeed a pretty little thing, but he had seen plenty of more grace than her in Virginia. What was it that drew Lewis to her?

"Lewis, you can't keep her. If she goes missing her mother will probably tear apart the city and we have no way of leavin' just yet." Clark explained quietly. "You have to take her back."

"No... No, that harlot doesn't deserve to think of her as a daughter." He wasn't thinking straight. Clark saw the girl began to stir though, and quickly took her from Lewis's arms, setting her down near a headstone. It took strength, but Clark was able to pull Lewis away from her and out of sight. As she slowly opened her eyes, she became disoriented and confused. This wasn't... This wasn't home. Was she still dreaming? She looked around, recognizing the graveyard a few miles away from her home. She could see the docks from her, the town empty in its own quiet slumber. She stood, looking around.

Was she awake? Was this real?

"Oh... Everything's become so confusing." She whimpered, resting against a nearby crypt. The stone was cold against her back. "My dreams only return for me to wake to nothing making sense." She continued to whisper. It was childish, but she felt as if it would be rude to disturb the sleep of the dead. "I don't understand any of this... Why everyone is leaving... Why I have to grow up..." She looked to the sky, tears on her face again. "Is there something wrong with me...? _Am I going mad?"_

Clark watched the girl begin to weep, his brows furrowing. In his confusion he didn't notice that Lewis had slipped away until he saw the man creeping between the headstones. "Lewis!" He hissed, trying not to alert the girl. Lewis looked back, but shook his head, only moving closer. The girl leaned her head back, closing her eyes.

"Even now I feel you... My old friend. That isn't right. You always leave once I awaken. Am I still dreaming?" Clark clenched his teeth as Lewis crept up behind the crypt.

"It doesn't have to be a dream." He whispered to her. Her eyes shot open and she looked around, but saw nothing. Was what she heard even real? But then... That voice... That lovely voice came to her again, whispering to her like the wispy smoke of her dreams. "It can be a reality, if you wish for it hard enough." She turned, seeing the shadow of a man that clung to the crypt. She should've been afraid, she was dressed only in her nightgown after all, but she felt something familiar from him. Comforting. She couldn't possibly fear him.

"Who are you?" She whispered back, eyes wide in the dim light. He came nearer, making her heart pound. She felt like a nervous rabbit lost in the wolves den, searching for the one who was the least hungry to help her escape. His eyes were pale and bruised heavily from lack of sleep. It looked as if he hadn't slept his entire life. His skin held no pigment, white as the marble headstones, his lips a strange ashen color. His hair was a silvery grey color despite the look of youth on his features, his tall form clothed all in black.

"An old friend." He spoke softly, reassuring her. "You may not remember me... As this." Or at least... He hoped his intuition served him true. She gazed at him for a moment before her eyes widened. It was him. He was the stag. The familiar force of his presence hit her so suddenly that tears sprang up in her eyes and she rushed at him, her arms wrapping tightly around his chest. Lewis let out a gasp of surprise before embracing her in return, his brows furrowing. "I suppose that means... You do." He felt her go limp in his arms and he looked down. She was unconscious. Clark returned to him, frowning.

"That's... strange. Something is at work here Lewis. And it's gunna take more than just impulse decisions to get to the bottom of it. You know what you have to do."

"I... I understand." He scooped the unconscious girl back up into his arms, traveling the rooftops he knew so well. He supposed he should feel dread at returning her, but he couldn't bring himself to. She had _seen_ him. She had seen his face, and she had not turned him away. She had looked a **monster** dead in the eyes and ran to embrace the darkness of his heart. She had _**embraced**_ him. Sure, not the most glamorous of first meetings by any chance but...

He had _hope_ for once.


End file.
